


I See (What They Won't)

by lunias1



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Hurt Stiles, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-15
Updated: 2014-01-15
Packaged: 2018-01-08 19:06:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1136306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunias1/pseuds/lunias1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a short fic featuring Stiles and Peter.</p><p>That’s only one thing of many he’d seen. At least staying around the edges of the pack was good for one thing. He was probably the only one who saw Stiles suffering. Who saw what no one else ever would. And he would be there for him. If he could do something right this time around he would be there for Stiles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I See (What They Won't)

[ ](http://s204.photobucket.com/user/lunias1/media/d5fc21cb-ae8e-4b9c-b2e7-ee82646974e8.jpg.html)

Stiles just stood there, his shirt getting soaked through from the rain that continued to fall. He spoke even though there was no one there to hear his words. Not that he wanted anyone to hear the words that escaped him in these moments of weakness. The words that stayed between him and his mother’s spirit, what he could never say to anyone else. The words that he never wanted them, them, the pack, the ones who thought he was weak, the one who forgot him, the one who never, never said any words of thanks for his work, the ones who ignored him and the ones who replaced him, to ever hear. Erica and Boyd. Scott. Derek. Jackson and Lydia. Isaac and Allison.

And why. 

Because even after everything that’s happened, since Scott was turned, since Derek became the Alpha, since the Kanima, since Peter came back, he doesn’t want to hurt them. Doesn’t want them to hurt even though they can’t see how much he hurts. 

All the time.  
\---------------------  
Peter ran through the streets following the scent as it quickly deteriorated in the rain. The scent of Stiles. After not showing up at another meeting regarding the newest big bad in town, Peter figured he should check in with the boy, after all no one else seemed to notice what was going on with him. 

That’s only one thing of many he’d seen. At least staying around the edges of the pack was good for one thing. He was probably the only one who saw Stiles suffering. Who saw what no one else ever would. And he would be there for him. If he could do something right this time around he would be there for Stiles. 

Coming around a turn he slowed his run to a light jog. Seeing where he was it dawned on him. Stiles was visiting his mother. Visiting the one person he could talk to without interruptions, without judgment. Stopping at the edge of the graveyard he walked to where he knew Stiles mothers grave resided. 

“I just don’t know anymore mom. I just don’t know how much longer I can do this, and its not like I can back out. Not now that I know what’s out there. But it just seems that I’m useless unless someone wants something. Wants me to lie to Dad, wants me to get information out of his files.” Stiles talked, his voice remaining the same low tone that tore Peters heart into little pieces. 

He didn’t want to scare Stiles but he knew that Stile wouldn’t like it at all if Peter just stood here and listened to what he was saying. 

“Stiles…” Peter said in a low tone. 

Peter might as well have yelled into Stiles ear with the reaction that Stiles had to that low, almost whispered sound.  
\------------------  
Stiles jumped up and spun around, to face Peter, but only for a second because as fast as he saw Peters face it was gone, only to be replaced by the ground.

“Shit Stiles.” Peter said as he grabbed hold of Stiles arms and pulled him back to his feet. 

“I’m okay, my legs just fell asleep.” Stiles said his voice muffled by Peter’s jacket.

Stile leaned on Peter as he gained some feeling back into his legs, only to quickly try and take a step back. He was brought up short when Peter wrapped his arms around him and pulled him closer.

“You’re lying Stiles.” Stiles made a low sound of protest as he tried to pull away from Peter, “Oh you may be fine from that small fall you just took. You’re not lying about that part. No. You’re just lying about everything else.” Peter held on to Stiles even as he struggled against his hold, one hand sliding up Stiles back to his neck, the other hand staying on his lower back. The hand on his neck pulled Stiles even closer so his head was against Peters shoulder. “You lie every time you tell Scott and them you’re okay, you lie to all of them and no one sees it because you put on such a good show at being that carefree teenager who cracks jokes all the time. And none of them see what you’re hiding with each of those jokes you crack.”

Stiles drew in a ragged breath, “I don’t want them to, and I don’t want them to see how much it hurts.” 

“But some part of you does; doesn’t it? You want them to see, but you don’t because you don’t want them to see you as weak.”

Stiles hands came up to clutch at Peter’s jacket, holding on to him like he was the only thing that was keeping him on his feet, and in reality he probably was.

“But you see Stiles, you were never weak, no matter what they all say. You, in fact, are probably stronger then all of us.”


End file.
